


Born To be Wild

by Skyliaskye



Series: Born To be Wild [7]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Wild (Linked Universe) Angst, Wild (Linked Universe)-centric, for a good while at least, imposter syndrome, more tags to be added as the story progresses, wild does not have a good time with himself or anyone for that matter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyliaskye/pseuds/Skyliaskye
Summary: Everything who he had become, every second of his journey taken, every battle fought and friend made, had started with the name Link.Now, to them? He was Wild.Linkhatesthat name.ORThis is what happens when you put imposter syndrome and identity issues into a 17 y/o who failed at what others succeeded in.
Series: Born To be Wild [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023901
Comments: 12
Kudos: 179





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, kinda got sick of the series format, so here we are, everything all coming together! Hope this doesn't confuse anyone, just wanted them all together!! For anyone new: This was a drabble series, that's kinda evolving into an actual story very slowly! Every story follows each other, much like an actual chapter-by-chapter story (thus why I decided to put them all into one!!) Anyway, hope yall enjoy!! Comments and love are always appreciated!

Link felt misplaced.

Scratch that -that isn’t his name right now- _Wild_ felt misplaced.

And, oh, isn’t that ironic?

The only thing he’s ever felt familiar with, ever felt like it _belonged_ , and he can’t even use it anymore.

But he gets it. 

There’s eight other Links, him himself making it nine. It wouldn’t be fair for him to be the only ‘Link’ there, when there are others (and _god_ does that mess with his head, there are others like him-) who deserves it more (way, _way_ more). 

So yeah, he gets it. 

But that doesn’t mean it can’t make his skin crawl every time he hears the word ‘Wild’, because it does, he won’t fault himself for this. His skin crawls with an eagerness to spread through his body, sending a deep, ugly dread that eats at him slowly- _mockingly_. 

Because all he had known to be was Link. To the princess, to the Sheikah, to Sidon, to everyone he had ever known (and to his past self from all those years ago, even more.) 

Link, who woke up alone, without a single memory and nothing but the Sheikah slate and the echo of her voice, guiding him through a world he knew nothing about.

Link, who encompassed the ability to protect, and did so willingly (he could feel deep down that he’d lay down his life for the land he was on and the people who inhabited it, and did so more than once.) 

Link, who’s memories were once nothing, had built them back up, one by one. 

Link, his name. 

His _identity_.

But he still gets it- still gets the idea that he isn’t special, that he shouldn’t be so selfish when the people in front of him had their own experiences with the same name. 

So he stays quiet about it. 

The ugly feeling of dread is quieter on the good days. 

On the good days, he’s usually away from the commotion of the group, situated on look-out duty, or scavenging for food. He’d be tucked away, hidden among the grass, or high above in the trees, hands shifting between the loose earth and feeling like he was home. 

He doesn’t mind it as much if the others call him ‘Wild’ during those times, no, not really. 

On those days, he feels _wild_ enough to be _‘Wild’_.

It’s worse on the bad days though. 

Tucked between the others, their presence almost overbearing, on the bad days, Link suffocates. 

His clothes latch onto him like desperate hands, clawing at his body with every step (Weren’t they tailored to fit his body? Why, why does it hurt so much?). 

His hands buzz numbly, trembling and soaked with the feeling of wrongness (how were these the hands the same ones that sealed the darkness away? That grasped the handle of the legendary sword and pierced the veil of darkness and the evil within?) 

He breathed short and quietly as he would walk, and his body was able to maneuver in a way that he envied when he fought (how is it that his body remembered more about his past life that he himself?)

On the bad days, he’s heart squeezes like there’s a clamp twisting within his chest every time he hears the word that they gave him, that he accepted with a bitter taste in his mouth as they smiled at him as if they had solved him like a _puzzle_. 

Link tried not to think about that too much, but it was hard when the trigger was his apparent name. 

So yeah, 'Wild' felt misplaced.

Could you blame him?


	2. Cultivated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link had considered his existence a little far from normal compared to everyone else for a while now. From the whole waking up in a glorified tub after a hundred years of slumber, to fulfilling the dead Champion’s wishes to free their souls and defeating the evil that took their lives too early and tormented the land of Hyrule for too, too long, Link considered his case a little bit more than average.
> 
> But for the normality that had come to accompany him since the fateful day he brought his sword against the malice that fed on the land of Hyrule, Link felt like a piece to a puzzle that doesn’t exist.

Link had considered his existence a little far from normal compared to everyone else for a while now. From the whole waking up in a glorified tub after a hundred years of slumber, to fulfilling the dead Champion’s wishes to free their souls and defeating the evil that took their lives too early and tormented the land of Hyrule for too, too long, Link considered his case a little bit more than average.

But for the normality that had come to accompany him since the fateful day he brought his sword against the malice that fed on the land of Hyrule, Link felt like a piece to a puzzle that doesn’t exist. 

He supposes the idea of him still being alive was to blame, considering it isn’t everyday someone is brought back to life a hundred years later looking no older than eighteen and his only purpose was to destroy the evil plaguing the lands. 

What was his purpose now? 

Link tried not to think about that much. Tried not to think about it as he watched as Zelda divulged herself into the mechanics of science with Purah and Symin, the world at her fingertips as she coexisted between herself and the inhabitants around her with no trouble. Tried not to think of it as his hands trembled numbly, faces upon faces passing with recognition flashing through their eyes and gratitude on their lips, before they wisp away, the name ‘Link, our Champion’ on their tongues and nothing more. 

Link, our Champion.

Yet what now, that there’s only one Champion remaining and the evil that they faced is no more?

Link, our _what_? 

Link, _who_ are you? 

He didn’t know. 

“My dearest Link,” Link has once heard through the ripple of chaos plaguing his mind,  
“what will you do now?” 

He didn’t know. 

Was there anything else he needed to do? 

Was he _needed_ anymore?

He didn’t know. 

The sword against his back had felt heavier than usual. 

“ _Wild._ ” 

Link didn’t like the name that much. 

When he had met them, they gave him the name with gentle smiles that made him itch under his skin. 

Wild. 

He was _Wild_ -

He didn’t feel like it though. 

He was Link, sworn protector of Princess Zelda and the owner of the sword that sealed the darkness away. Link, the soldier (he wasn’t surprised to find this out when Zelda had told him), who trained and trained and protected, and died and lived once more. 

He hadn’t been born in the wild, no, not like they might think. 

Link knew the wild was untameable, and he knew he was anything but. He had been a witness to the bare beginnings of a ravaging storm above countless times. Had seen the horrors of survival tearing through those who stood against its way without pause. 

The wild was a magnificent beast, and Link knew he wasn’t born in the wild; he was _cultivated_. 

He was built to last and when that ran out, he was rebuilt to be built once more. 

From the beginning to the end, to the beginning once more, through trials and tribulations, Link had been built to fight.

Now he stood again, at the door to fate calling and they’re waiting, looking at him with expectant eyes and those gentle smiles that make him itch. They wait with the world hanging on their shoulders, a new threat, bigger than anything any of them had either seen (and doesn’t that make Link want to _scream_ ), and they’re waiting for him. 

Link knew he had been cultivated; built to fight and to protect- it was his purpose after all. 

And he obeys to call of fate once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 2 electric boogaloo


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a long time now, all that Link has ever known was to push forward. It was ingrained in his mind, and into his bones; the foundation of his body and soul that encompassed his entire being was melded to the concept of pushing himself for the sake of survival, not just for himself but for the world he knew and the people who lived in it. 
> 
> He was their key to defeating the evil, after all. 
> 
> Their key that had wasted a century in slumber, oblivious to the chaos that evoked fear and projected a dreadful horror on the lands of Hyrule in its wake throughout the years it stood tall. 
> 
> Yet, Link was their key all the same, and Link wasn’t going to waste his time to lose his chance once more. 
> 
> So, he pushed forward.

For a long time now, all that Link has ever known was to push forward. It was ingrained in his mind, and into his bones; the foundation of his body and soul that encompassed his entire being was melded to the concept of pushing himself for the sake of survival, not just for himself but for the world he knew and the people who lived in it. 

He was their key to defeating the evil, after all. 

Their key that had wasted a century in slumber, oblivious to the chaos that evoked fear and projected a dreadful horror on the lands of Hyrule in its wake throughout the years it stood tall. 

Yet, Link was their key all the same, and Link wasn’t going to waste his time to lose his chance once more. 

So, he pushed forward. 

He pushed, driving himself through an almost endless number of shrines, to the dangers of the divine beasts and an ever-present number of monsters and enemies. He pushed, and pushed some more, ignoring the persistent protest his body throbbed out through ever step, every concerned expression that fell his way, and continued until the very end when the Calamity was sealed away. 

Then Link continued. 

The world won’t rebuild by itself after all. 

Link pushed forward, offering a helping hand towards anyone who needed it and to anyone who simply wanted it. He travelled through the towns like a wildfire, spreading his abilities and skills thin for the people who he had swore an oath to protect. 

For the people who he had also failed.

Link knew his work was never enough to make amends for his actions. 

Yet, he pushed forward anyway. 

‘You still failed them, though’ the whisper of his mind would replay.

Link had failed.

Link supposes that’s one of the reasons as to why he felt so out of place with the others who he sat amongst. 

He had failed… but he’s sure none of them did. 

And isn’t that a scary thought? To be an outlier for your actions? To die among a war, having been proclaimed as -not only just a hero- but as The Hero? 

Pathetic. 

Who was he to sit among the others as if he held a one of the keys to victory-

He had already been one, and he knew where that had got him. 

Link thought back to the moment he had hesitated falling back into the line of duty for Hylia, with their eyes so confident, staring at him with their commitment to succeed in the face of evil. They were on one side whilst he was on the other, and still he had the audacity to _hesitate_ and question if he was worthy enough for them for the failure he was. 

A thousand thoughts had ravaged through his mind in those very seconds, each screaming at him to _listen_ \- 

Yet his soul moved before his heart. 

Fate called for him to their door once more and Link pushed forward.

For a long time now, all that Link has ever known was to push forward. He does this for a lot of reasons, but there’s one that will always be with him. He does this for the people who he has come to know, and for those he doesn’t; For those who he had failed. 

He will do anything, even if it means melding himself into something that he’s afraid to fail at once more. 

He will sacrifice his name.

He will sacrifice his actions. 

He will sacrifice his feelings. 

He will sacrifice his life over and over again, if it means they are safe. 

So, Link does what he’s always been doing, and keeps pushing forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't give up


	4. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link considers himself one of the quieter ones out of the group, if not, the quietest.
> 
> He doesn’t mind that at all. 
> 
> Being the quietest means no one really tries to talk to him, and although usually he’s ok with people talking to him, the idea that they encompass the same hero’s spirit as him; holds the same _purpose_ as him, made him want to hide away. 
> 
> So he likes to be quiet. 
> 
> It also gave him a way to sneak off sometimes, too.

Link considers himself one of the quieter ones out of the group, if not, the quietest.

He doesn’t mind that at all. 

Being the quietest means no one really tries to talk to him, and although usually he’s ok with people talking to him, the idea that they encompass the same hero’s spirit as him; holds the same _purpose_ as him, made him want to hide away. 

So he likes to be quiet. 

It also gave him a way to sneak off sometimes, too. 

Not too far, no, he knows not to stray too much from the others, but he sneaks off all the same; drifting through the warped trees, legs cutting through the tall grass like a knife to butter. 

His eyes would scour the wilderness before him, silently observing what he could find; his trembling hands eager to explore and to take all he deemed salvageable to cook and create with. 

Some didn’t like him doing this. 

And he gets it, sure- those who stay together are stronger together, yes, he gets it. Being a group meant being able to set up defensive and offensive measures, and kept everyone in sight in case something went wrong. 

But it doesn’t mean he likes it like that. 

Don’t get him wrong, he understands it’s for the sake of the group’s protection, but he has his own measurements he can utilise. From Daruk’s Protection, to Mipha’s Grace, Link had what he needed to survive on his own. 

Link had enough to say, “ _I can protect myself._ ”

“That’s not the point,” Link kept his eyes downwards as the Hylian- the tallest one (Time, Link’s mind gave him) pointedly proclaimed, “You shouldn’t sneak off like that, no matter what kind of protection you have.” 

Link’s hands shook. 

His hands had always shook. 

They trembled ever so slightly, something that no one had really ever picked up on, and something he wishes that was the same for himself, yet here they shook both night and day.  
He considers this to be a fault from the resurrection chamber, nothing is perfect after all, yet, Link wouldn’t be surprised if it was because of the battles he had fought. From the blunt force hits from stray weapons, to electrocution, it’s bound to leave some sort of permanent problems behind (if his scars weren’t already bad enough.)

Right now though, it’s a welcomed distraction. 

He doesn’t know much about Time, and to be honest he knew almost nothing about anyone else in the group either, but from what he had observed though, he could see as clear as day that Time had fit into the role of the leader. 

The Hylian held himself strong, and held himself high. He had the experience, something Link didn’t even dare question (he’s seen those eyes before, staring back at him in a mirror).

Time was as clever as he was honest. 

And as for now, he was out for Link. 

“We don’t know where we are right now, and there haven't been any clear landmarks to truly know we’re safe, so although I understand that you’re a little on the wild side,” Link cringed, “but I’d rather you stick with us for the time being.” Time stated, his voice low, but stern. 

From the silence that had followed since Time had pulled him away, Link already knew that the others were listening in. 

He didn’t care. 

His eyes stared between the crack of his fingernails, the slight smudge of dirt as a source of inspiration for Link’s imagination to wander away from the conversation. 

He nodded.

It stayed silent. 

The silent dragged on for several moments, but Link could be quiet for ages, and he can wait just as long, too.

“Wild,” there’s that word again, “look at me, please.” reluctantly, Link does so. Blue eyes connect to blue, and a distant thought of ‘the same shade’ reaches him before Time sighs, “I’m not telling you this to take away your freedom or anything like that, and I don’t doubt you’re capable enough to take care of yourself. But… just for now, stick together with all of us, do you understand?” he pauses to gouge out Link’s expression, who in return shrugs, eyes diverting from the taller man. 

Link could tell from a shuffle behind him that someone was ready to do something. He guessed maybe the one with the pinkish streak in his hair was ready to speak his opinion, something that had happened on more than one occasion. Luckily for Link though, Time offers a silent stopping motion with his hand towards the other, and everything stills once more. 

“Everyone, just keep walking on, we’ll be with you all in a second.” By the tone of Time’s voice, it wasn’t up for debate; and without another word, others trailed ahead slowly. 

Link watched as they filtered past the trees, his own figure still in waiting, however, he didn't have to wait long as the shuffle of armour reached his ears.

“Do your hands always shake?” without looking at the Hylian, Link nods. 

He should’ve figured that Time would’ve noticed. He was the first to realise Link has snuck off on most occasions, and always seemed to have an eye on the back of his head with how observant he was. 

His hands buzz as the awareness hits him, and he bites back the need to scratch at them, to do _something_ to distract him from how obvious the shaking was when aware of it.

“If you ever need it, I know some good meditation that might help calm them. My hands used to shake quite frequently with the build up of stress.” Link shrugs at the suggestion. 

Quite frankly, his hands weren’t the thing that was bothering him. They could shake all they want, and it wouldn’t affect Link as much as the gnawing ache of desolation that ate at him. 

Was he meant to feel anything else?

He had felt out of place throughout most of his time out of the shrine of resurrection, and this was no different. Yet, to have the things he considered familiar and safe to him be taken away as well? His name, the first thing he had remembered, the first thing to have _meaning_ to him, replaced alongside the reprimand of adventure, as if his exploration were to be the end of them all? 

Link bit the inside of his cheek. 

Why did they make him feel this way? As if they're against him at every turn, as if they're doing this to hurt him? Maybe he was at fault- that would make sense, Link supposed. Maybe it was just him and maybe it was the way his brain worked (a certain part of his head blamed the shrine of resurrection) or maybe it was his selfishness that was to blame. It was only a name after all, people change theirs all the time, right? 

His gut twisted at the thought and he frowned. 

“Anyway, keep the offer in your mind, and if you want to, I can show you tonight after dinner. Now, we better catch up to the others before we’re left behind.” Time claimed before wandering off back towards the group. 

Link watched for several seconds, his eyes burning the back of Time’s armour.

It had to be Link's fault then, right? They had been nothing but supportive (or, well, as supportive as they could be, Link guessed) since they had shown up, only wanting the best of him, surely it was all in his head, right? 

“Oh, and Wild?” Time turned, and their eyes locked once more, “did you want to have first look-out today? I’m pretty sure you could secure the perimeter by looking around while you’re at it.” Link blinked. 

Then blinked again. 

Hesitantly he nodded, an arm resting to rub the other as Time mirrored his nod and turned back around. 

Link followed as silently as ever. 

Maybe he assumed too soon, about the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u ever overthink then end up isolating bc u think ur entire existance has become a sham and it ends up getting so bad that you're always silent and never communicate with anyone and end up jumping to conclusions that become detrimental to your state of existence?


	5. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link stared in horror, and the Hylian clad in murky brown and dark green (Hyrule, his mind delivered) stared back.
> 
> The difference? 
> 
> Their eyes stared at the pot of burning rice and the flames that accompanied them, overtaking the surface of the pot with extraordinary strength and billowing smoke to top it off- 
> 
> Link felt his hand twitch.
> 
> He should’ve known this would’ve happen. 
> 
> Out of everything that could have happened, it was this that started it all.
> 
> Firstly, let's get this one thing straight- 
> 
> Link is good at cooking.

Link stared in horror, and the Hylian clad in murky brown and dark green (Hyrule, his mind delivered) stared back.

The difference? 

Their eyes stared at the pot of burning rice and the flames that accompanied them, overtaking the surface of the pot with extraordinary strength and billowing smoke to top it off- 

Link felt his hand twitch.

He should’ve known this would’ve happen. 

Out of everything that could have happened, it was this that started it all.

Firstly, let's get this one thing straight- 

Link is good at cooking. 

No, actually, considering how Zelda’s eyes would light up, or when Sidon goes in for seconds (though Link assumed it was because Sidon is a _Hyliadamn_ Zora, but let him have this-), Link would say his cooking is great. 

He doesn’t understand how, or when he developed this ability, even Zelda was lost on that one, but it was something he was proud of- the fact that the wilderness around him, as assholish as it could be, was tameable in a way that brought smiles to other’s faces was something that Link enjoyed quite immensely. 

Back to the problem though. 

Link is great at cooking. 

The others… are _not_ great at cooking. 

Link cringed at the smell of burning rice that hit his nose, his observant eyes locking onto the pot that held the said rice… with... no water…

_What?_

Ok, scratch that previous statement, the others Hyliadamn _**suck**_ at cooking. 

Because who the hell can’t cook rice? It’s water and rice -it’s that simple- you put the water in the pot and then the rice (and maybe put a little goat butter in there so the rice won’t stick to the bottom) and just keep stirring over an open fire till boom! Cooked rice! 

His fingers twitched alongside his ears at the searing hiss of the pot that reached his ears. 

He swept his eyes up and found himself connecting eyes to Hyrule -the traveller, Link had chalked him up as- in all his glory, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  
And the others? 

Well, the others looked like it was normal for this to happen. 

And, oh, is that not good- had they been living like this all this time? 

Link’s mind considered the facts. 

He had been with them for merely three days, two in which was spent at an inn whilst he was caught up to speed on the events that had occurred.

Those two days that included dining in the said inn, before setting out on the dawn of the third day. They ate dinner at the inn, they ate breakfast- hell, Link had seen them buy snacks (mere apples! There was an apple tree _right outside!_ ) at the inn. 

Yeah, it all checked out. 

The traveller threw the pot on the ground, wild eyes seeking out someone with the ability to help. 

Seconds later, the pot was frozen over. 

Link felt his hand twitch again. 

“Ah well, here’s to the next batch.” A water skin pouch was brought to the air, and Link followed it down to the one clad with a blue scarf (Warriors, he answered himself), finding the Hylian looking as sad as he was amused with everything that had just occurred. 

A chorus of groans followed. 

Just how often did this happen?

He heard a chuckle to his left, an outlier to the sounds of anguish,  
“Poor Wild, having to finally see our true selves.” Link couldn’t find himself to flinch at the name, instead watching on as Twilight (an itch as the back of his mind hit him their eyes connected, but Link ignored that too) huffed out a small smile, “to most, we are friends; to everyone, we are heroes. But as chefs? We aren’t so lucky.” 

Yeah, Link could tell. 

“I can cook-“  
“No, no, you can’t call that food.” Wind -The sailor- slumped at that, as Warriors laid a comforting hand on his shoulder,  
“It’s ok bud, it was only a little sharp and hard.” The smaller glared above, but the latter merely shrugged, “turned out to be good ammunition when we fought those monsters afterwards.” 

Link…

Link didn’t even want to know. 

“Uh,” eyes snapped back to the traveller, who picked up the pot, ice evidently glazed over it still, “I think that was the last of the rice, guys.” 

Another chorus of groans. 

Link said nothing. 

“So, we’re back to eating those ration bars then?” Time questioned. 

No one wanted to answer, and Link felt his hand twitch again. 

He pulled out his slate. 

Almost immediately he felt all of their eyes on him and he held back the urge to turn away and to hide. His skin pricked at their gazes, yet he ignored it as best as he could as he glanced down into his inventory. 

The camp was silent, apart from the crackling of the fire that had not been scathed by the chaos that had just occurred. 

Link swiped his finger to the next page, observing the way his hand shook a fraction more at the attention that was held against him. 

After several moments, he nodded to himself- he had all of the ingredients he needed (for such a big group, he was impressed that he did; he’d have to go foraging for more soon).

He looked up. 

Everyone looked back. 

His stomach fell at the eyes and he detached his gaze immediately, the overwhelming sense of dread festering into the pit of his stomach. 

“Care to say something?” That was the pink one- Legend, as others had called him. Someone ‘tut’d from the other side of the camp,  
“None of that attitude, now. Wild,” Link forced his gaze up, connecting to Time, “did you want to do something?” the elder’s eyes gazed down to the slate and Link almost hid it from his view. 

Link considered his next step. 

He opened his mouth. 

He closed it again. 

His eyes found the firepit and he made no move to explain. 

The silence stuck to the group for several more seconds. 

“Hyrule.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Move away from the firepit please.” Hryule did so quickly. 

Link took one more glance back at Time, who nodded towards the dancing flames. 

Link felt the tips of his ears burn as he gripped onto his slate and nodded slightly before B-lining towards his destination. 

The silence grew louder. 

Link sat at the edge of the fire and breathed.

His slate did the rest as it produced the items he needed, shimmering into existence in a blue light. 

Almost immediately, the Hylian heard someone gasp and he paused, eying the sailor as he shuffled a little closer,  
“What was THAT?” from beside him, Warrior’s look impressed,  
“That’s something new.”  
Several others pitched in their comments, their questions, that made Link shrink into himself. 

He supposes he should’ve realised this would’ve happened. 

This isn’t the first time he had ever needed to explain himself, no, he’s done this before. Between the people that he knew, it was obvious that many people had never seen this kind of device (he boldly remembers Bolson’s face as he emptied the ideal amount of wood that the Hylian had asked for- thirty- fifty bundles? Either way, It led to a very lengthy explanation about what the slate was.) 

Link had no problem explaining it- until now, it seemed. 

He looked forward, and several eyes pried back.

His throat hasn't been able constricted his will to talk for a while now. 

Time cleared his throat,  
“Right. That’s it, come on, you’re overwhelming him. Just sit back down and talk to him later.” And there it was again- that commanding tone. 

No debates were had, and the others backed off. 

Link blinked, before breathing out a breath he didn’t know he had held. 

His fingers trembled in his lap. 

He got to work. 

Zelda once told Link that cooking could be considered as therapeutic to him. 

Link agreed.

Cooking felt good to do. 

Away from the stress of Calamity, back when had begun his journey, cooking had been introduced by Rhoam to him. From that mere one recipe that the King of Old had produced to him, Link had figured out two things. 

One- Cooking meant that most things were salvageable and were able to be harnessed and cultivated into something that was edible and gave life. 

Cooking meant survival.

And two- Link _really_ liked to cook. Survival was good and all, but cooking meant something deeper for him. It was almost an escape, wrapped within an excuse to create food for himself. He could be anywhere in the land of Hyrule, and cooking would be right there waiting for him, with an almost endless number of ingredients to hone and change and enhance, Link truly did enjoy cooking. 

Though, although Link couldn’t cook all the time, no, and sometimes he really did cook for his survival (that’s usually when the monster parts come into play, and he still doesn’t know how to feel about it), there was something that felt oddly familiar to him every time he cooked- it almost felt like home, in a way (or at least that’s what he calls the feeling). 

All in all, yeah, Link enjoyed cooking. 

For the meal he was creating now, it took merely half an hour to prepare and cook. 

Spicy Meat and Seafood Fry.

The first meal he had cooked, and it certainly wasn’t his last- he just hoped the others liked it.

Link heard a distant grumble and looked wide-eyed in Legend’s direction. 

Wait- no, that wasn’t Legend, was it? 

“Legend, was that your _stomach?_ ” Before Link could process the words, the Hylian flushed red, quickly shouting at Warriors, who merely burst into a hearty laugh, clapping the smaller on the back, which only served to anger the smaller even more. 

The sound of Warriors laughs reverberated within the camp, and seconds later, most of the others joined in. 

Link blinked at the pink streaked Hylian, and then at the others, before looking down at his food. 

He quickly served up a plate, ignoring the quickly growing nerves, before standing up and making his way over to the reddened man, who had yet to let up on his onslaught against the scarfed warrior. 

Link stood in front of him. 

The laughter died out slowly. 

After several seconds, Legend turned to Link, eyes connected to each other. 

Link held out the dish. 

A silence settled in.

Legend’s face contorted into one of confusion, before they fell onto the dish and the expression fell neutral. 

The silence stretched on, and Link was quick to begin to doubt himself- did he push their boundaries? Had they had a tradition that they followed before being served? 

Link didn’t know. 

However, A hand caught him off guard as Legend gently took the meal from him, his eyes never leaving the plate. 

Link’s hands trembled, though he was quick to guide them back into each other’s grasp in an attempted to stop it. 

Quickly, from beside Legend, Warriors butted his shoulder to Legend’s, eyes also gazing against the plate as a frown settled into place,  
“Well that isn’t fair.” Link’s hand twitched, “this is the best meal I’ve laid my eyes on in a long while and Legend gets the first serve?” to prove his point, he reaches over, attempting to grab a piece. Legend, however, quickly apprehends the hand in his own and he flicks it away, a glare gluing itself to Warrior’s figure,  
“Go get your own plate you buffoon.”  
“BUFFOON?” 

Link blinked once more. 

He could feel his heart stammering as the two in front of him argued. 

Almost automatically, he shuffled away, back to the firepit where the rest of the meal settled, ready to be served itself. Behind him, he could still hear legend defending his meal against Warriors, yet this time with the sailor as his sidekick. From the other side, he could hear Time sigh out, possibly in exaggeration, but there was a tone of fondness to it (fondness. He hadn’t heard that in a while). Beside the leader, Twilight chuckle, just as the other three, the traveller, Sky, and the smallest, Four (he still didn’t understand why he was named that) merely observed. 

Link could feel a warmth settle in. 

A warmth that both startled him, yet calmed him at the same time- why? Had it been because they liked his food? Because he hadn’t wasted their time? 

Link took a second to take a glance back, just as Legend begun to scarf down the food, one foot used to keep Warriors back as Wind, who had climbed onto Warriors shoulders, was reaching out for said food. 

He didn’t understand.

Legend gave a triumph of a shout as he branded his finished plate, before pointing towards Link- the said Hylian startling once more,  
“You’re either cooking for us every night or teaching us how to cook, no ‘if’s or ‘but’s, ok?!” Link, who probably looked close to a deer caught in the headlight, merely nodded, “good. Also, I hope there’s enough for seconds.” 

The warmth swelled, and although it confused Link, he didn’t mind it. 

Legend, however, branded his plate once more, looking like a Hylian on a mission, just as Warriors, alongside several others, called their dibs on the next serving.

Link’s eyes barely grazed over to Time’s, who gave an endearing nod at the turn of events. 

No, Link didn’t mind at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sweetie the feeling is called belongign xoxox


	6. History Almost Repeats Itself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Shrine of Resurrection shouldn’t exist, but it does, and it does things to people. 
> 
> Link knows that all too well. 
> 
> On some nights, when everything is still and unforgivingly quiet, Link finds it hard to move.
> 
> On those nights, Link _burns._

The Shrine of Resurrection shouldn’t exist. 

But it does. 

And that in itself is something scary to understand. 

Because the Shrine of Resurrection is more than just a shrine. The Shrine of Resurrection, the same one buried deep within a cave that lay dormant for thousands of years, is more than just something that sounds as undeniably wrong as it does. 

Because it _is_ wrong.

The Shrine of Resurrection, much like its name, revives the dead.

But it does more than that. 

It heals. 

Even the worst fatal wounds, the Shrine heals. It heals and it revives, but it’s more than that still. The Shrine heals, and revives, but it also takes and bends the being to its will- it strips the being of their mortality and moulds them into something new, something bare of any of its knowledge. 

It’s _wrong._

Link doesn’t like the Shrine of Resurrection that much. 

He doesn’t like it, not because it allowed him to fulfil his duty (Zelda gave him that opportunity), but because it made him who he wasn’t. Made him forget everything he had ever known, and made him hurt, and hurt and hurt. 

The Shrine of Resurrection shouldn’t exist, but it does, and it does things to people. 

Link knows that all too well. 

On some nights, when everything is still and unforgivingly quiet, Link finds it hard to move.

On those nights, Link _burns._

The inner pieces of his skin writhe in a static that hums like a cluster of bees, swarming the tips of his fingers and numbly stings at his muscles. He remembers the same feeling when he had awoken the first time in the shrine, a buzz that had lit his whole body in a fiery sensation that almost made him think the liquid he had been encased in was alive, tiny miniscule microorganisms seeping through his skin and down his throat with the purpose to keep him breathing once more.

Link doesn’t sleep during those nights. 

In fact, Link doesn’t sleep much at all, during most nights (Link plays with the idea that a hundred years of slumber would do that to someone; stunting the need for sleep).

It was different for the others. 

There were a lot of things different between himself and the others.

In truth, Link is alarmingly aware of the differences between himself and the others, whether they realise it or not. Whether it had been his lack of need for sleep, or smaller appetite, or even his excessive tolerance to pain (Link muses over the idea that maybe his nerves have just become numb, it isn’t exactly an impossible thought), Link recognises that compared to the others, he… well, he doesn’t know how to call it, or what he’s even trying to say about this. 

Link is just aware that it’s a thing. 

The Hylian supposes that it’s due to his new habit to observe the others now.

It’s kind of hard not to when he’s around them so often. 

In fact, Link can’t really begin to remember a time (and boy, what a way to word that) where he had really spent so long with other people, other than the vague memories of Zelda back before the Calamity. 

Not even after waking up had Link truly spent a copious amount of time travelling with others (the most he had done had been when straying monsters had started to attack travellers and Link insisted that he’d stick with them, if not just for a little bit to make sure it didn’t happen again).

All-in-all, it was something new. 

And god, that terrifies Link. 

It was almost like back when he had awoken once more, inside the Shrine of Resurrection, where everything was new and everything was unknown, with nothing but her voice as his guide and his name.

This time, it was different, yes, it was so so different- he still remembers his time after waking up, and this time he was given the opportunity to choose (a deep echo in his mind refused that, but he brushed it away) to follow along the sides of the previously chosen heroes. This time he was prepared for battles and to protect even more so. 

This time, things were different. 

But so were _they._

It was easier now, after the initial time Link had cooked for them, yes, he could feel the change. Easier it was for him to breathe, and there was a warmth that made Link feel something that didn’t burn under his skin.

But they were still new.

They were the unknown this time, something new and something that Link immersed himself in for the sake of protecting once more, but this time? This time, Link neither had her voice to guide him or his name to accompany him. 

And that made all the difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments would be very much appreciated, whether its just helpful word or maybe even something you want to see happen or for me to talk about? wink


	7. Sensation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, first things first; they had switched worlds. 
> 
> Second things second?
> 
> Link couldn’t breathe.

“We’re switching.” 

Link could feel it before he understood what had been said.

What he could feel, he does not know for sure, but there's a subtly to the feeling that tugs at his heart, like a child gently tugging against the clothing of their parent, eager to get their attention. 

The feeling tugs, yes, it tugs, but it doesn't pull; it doesn't claw it's way in, demanding for its presence to be known. 

No, the feeling is kinder than that. 

Link finds himself hating this feeling immediately. 

He hates the idea that something so alarmingly destressing is as kind as it is. 

He hates the way that it's kind just as much as Link hates how disorientating it is, watching the world shift and sway ever so slightly as if he had been contorted in place.

The feeling that builds up is subtle, yes, but it's latched onto his head, prominently fixated in the details of his brain, jarring enough for his mind to warp around for a few moments as if a compass calibrating itself. He can already hear the other's annoyed mutters and whispered sighs from beside him, but he pays it no mind, instead finding it easier to focus on his shortening breaths. 

The feeling lasts merely several seconds, but even then those seconds prove to point out the worst of the situation. 

First things first- 

They had just switched to a different period of time. 

Link knew it wasn’t his own, no, there was a deep heaviness to this world that's already engulfed him, like a shadow that danced between the cracks of light that shone through the branches of the trees. Over the jarring shift in change, Link could hear the distant cries of birds, accompanied by the ever shifting winds (Link's quick to compare it to the unnaturally quiet forests that encompassed a wide range of areas of his home, where monsters lurked around nearly every corner, and where Link trusted nothing but the sword on his back and his own senses for survival) and he unofficially declares the area safe for now. 

So yeah, first things first; they had switched worlds. 

Second things second?

Link couldn’t breathe. 

No, no, it wasn't the type where he starts choking immediately, gasping for air with alarming desperation, no, it's much like the feeling that had yet to let up; it was subtle. 

Subtle for the way the feeling clings onto Link's head, just as it's subtle for his breathing to slow antagonisingly until it refused to breathe in once more.

Now, Link supposes that he understood a lot of things. He has to, if he wants to keep up with a god that's determined to cultivate him and then even more so. 

In his Hryule, Link understood his role, for as little that he remembers. He was a soldier -one who had pledged his life for his kingdom- and then a Hero, whose soul pledged for the safety of the very existence of Hyrule itself. 

He understood the concept of death, as much as he's been able to cheat it. Through the trials and tribulations that went against his wit and against his blade, where he lost more than he gained for the sake of Hyrule's safety, and would do it again if it meant that Hryule would be safe. 

And, he understood that he had been needed in that Hryule, for as long as Calamity had reigned. He had been needed. 

He _had_ been. 

That, he understands. 

But now? Now, as Link's own flesh and blood made himself known to a world where he is nothing to anyone? Where the concept of his very existence (apart from his soul, a thought sneers) doesn't means anything? Where nine _Link's_ , of all people, have crossed over through a means that should be impossible, that _shouldn't exist_ , in a means to destroy an evil that's set out to annihilate whatever is in its path?

Link doesn't understand how the others are so willing for this to happen.

Link… 

Link feels like a parasite. 

Like a leech. 

He could feel the warmth that had begun to settle in turn sour, the unfamiliar sensation contorting in mere seconds into a coldness that burned as his lungs ever so slightly whispered in need of air; he ignored it. 

Instead, Link focused on the much-too familiar sensation that ebbed at him like needles, holding him place. He could still hear the others, but they were so, so far away and distant.  
By now, the feeling had faded. 

By now, Link could feel the buzz of his hands, drizzled in the anxiety of his mind, begin to shake.

But the sensation? The sensation stayed, oh it stayed, and it tightened as his chest clamped shut. 

Link contemplates for a moment. 

In an age that had lost so many due to his inaction, how come he gets to stand where he does, in a time that escaped the evil before it plunged it's sickening fangs into the world? Where, at least, _this_ Link had fought, and _this_ Link had won without the death. 

Without the failure.

Why? 

His chest burned. 

"Hey."

And then, all at once, it stops; a hand, gentle and cautious lays upon his shoulder. 

"Wild, are you ok?" 

Link inhales. 

The sensation lingers, ugly and vile- he's not ok, he's _not._

Yet, for the sake of fate, for the sake of everything he has to goddamn die for, Link breathes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the random change in formatting (this is when i decided to move from a series to an actual chapter-by-chapter book btw) and as an extension, sorry that this chapter kinda lacks a little, didn't know how to end it! (comments are always appreciated!! yell at me <3)


End file.
